In Your Head
by nekobaba
Summary: Ishida Uryuu meets Hollow Ichigo


Disclaimer: All characters belong to Kubo Tite. I have no rights to Bleach (except the household variety).

Word Count: 760 

Summary: Uryuu meets the Hollow.

Warning: R; bloodplay, melodrama

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He got out of bed naked and slid over to my dresser. The candle flame wavered in the brief draught and spilled shadow over the walls. He chuckled softly and turned around, cradling the slim box in his hand. With a casual flick, he opened it and drew out a sliver of Merkur's platinum-coated steel.

"Such interesting toys," he lisped. The sibilant sounds scratched on my eardrums.

One hand lazily stroking himself, he came to perch on the edge of the bed, close enough for me to see the crazed light in his eyes. His grin stretched too wide and showed too many teeth.

He turned the paper-thin blade delicately between his fingertips, like an illusionist holding out a playing card for my inspection. Cocking his head to one side, he leered and waited.

Why couldn't I move?

"It's a pity," he sighed, fingering the keen edge. "Not many people bother with such old fashioned things anymore. Quite the traditionalist, aren't you?" His lips curled in a knowing smile, almost a sneer. "I'm sure you'll agree with me, boy. Whichever way you use it, good technique is all that matters."

In one violent purposeful stroke, he carved a dark line across his chest. A sick sweet groan escaped from his parted lips.

"Stop -- " I gasped, as I realised its true nature.

"What?" the thing mocked, feigning ignorance. The dark fluid welled up from the cut, shiny and potent.

" -- destroying him!" I charged.

The thing had Ichigo's body but nothing of his soul. It screeched as if in indignation and grabbed me by the hair. I tried to twist away but its grip was insanely strong. I choked on the raw earthiness of human blood, mixed in with that familiar grave-side stench of a Hollow. There was no mistaking the acrid tang of ozone and concentrated spirit particles, coagulated with selfish hunger and cold intent.

"Let me enlighten you, Quin--cy," it hissed slowly in my face. "He and I, we share this body, and a common understanding. When the pathetic fool insists on getting his sorry ass whipped, I am the one who insures him against certain death. So, now and then, I get to do what pleases me, since that little prick so freely does what pleases him."

It leaned in close to my ear. "And I know, he was so damn pleased," it purred, "to be finally fucking you last night."

I squirmed in shame. God, it knew, it knew every detail. The Hollow threw back its head and cackled mercilessly. What have I been sharing my most intimate experiences with?

"Here, have a taste." It flicked its tongue along the edge of the blade, then swiftly crushed its lips over mine, tainting me with the taste of salt and copper.

I wrestled to break free. My knuckles slipped on its chest, smearing my fists in blood. There was so much of it - all Ichigo's, all liquid and warm, none of it clotting. Thin rivulets trickled into the crevices between my fingers. The wetness seeped in and spread like a disease, reeking of corruption and wanton waste of precious life.

It shouldn't feel this good.

The Hollow jerked me close and thrust itself against my crotch, its swollen sex vulgar and insistent. "About time you acknowledged this," it whispered thickly. "Oh, don't get all prissy with me now. I have seen, you can be quite the slut in bed."

I wasn't sure anymore, which I hated -- the monster or myself. It reached down and sheathed a slick palm around my throbbing betrayal that was already leaking onto the sheets. "Let me hear you moan, Uryuu. He loves it. Makes him shiver inside ... "

I felt my throat convulse in a hoarse cry and I woke, to the wild thumping of my heart, and the hard and heavy strain of guilt in my groin. I was that close to coming.

The room was dark. It wasn't even my room. A night breeze flitted through the curtains and buffed cool and clean against my sweaty skin. Beside me, Ichigo snored softly into his pillow. I heaved a shuddering and thankful breath.

This sore spot, a cut, inside my lip. Had I bitten it in my sleep? Perhaps that explained the taste of blood in my mouth.

Slowly, I peeled back the covers and ran a shaky hand over his heart, just to be sure.

Was it really inside him? Did he know it?

Ask him in the morning, it hissed in my ear.

x end x


End file.
